


A is for Antagonist

by star_named_andy



Series: Alphabet of Love [1]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit (Video Games), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babies, Baby Barduil, Bard's parents - Freeform, BardXThranduil, Barduil - Freeform, Cuties, F/M, M/M, farm, little!Bard, little!Thranduil, piggies, thranduilxbard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:46:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone new is moving in on Bard's turf, and the little almost six year old decides if he can't scare his new neighbors away, he'll just have to investigate them instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A is for Antagonist

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea of an AU where the Hobbit characters were just funny little tykes in their early school years, and then I was referred to read andquitefrankly's series Color Outside the Lines and I was inspired to write a littlekid!Barduil fic myself! This is just something I'm playing with; I may or may not continue based on how you guys like it. I do hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

Bard had been counting the days on the calendar that hung in the kitchen every day for a year, yes, _every day_ , never forgetting to do so not even once, in wait of one dreadful day. How could he forget to check the calendar with so much ruckus going on all the time? There were construction workers, architects and men and women in tight business attire cluttering the road he lived on, _his_ road, nearly every day. Sometimes those people even came to the door of his house and his parents actually invited them in; the nerve of them all! The outsiders had no right to be there in Bard’s opinion because their business wasn’t with _their_ house, it was with the new one being built a few miles down the road. But these people weren’t only to blame, no. Bard blamed his parents too. After all, they were the ones who had agreed to sell part of their excessive farmland to some weirdos they didn’t even know so a house could be built there.

Five year old Bard didn’t understand any of it, and he thought himself to be quite a smart kid already and he was almost six now, so it was obviously just one of those things that didn’t make sense to anyone because it was so insane. His parents didn’t quite expect him to fully understand since they gave the news to him when he was just hitting his fifth year, but they had tried explaining it to him probably hundreds of times over the past year: it was for the money.

Apparently, whoever made the Bowmans the offer on the piece of land offered a hefty sum of money as payment and of course Mr. Brent and Mrs. Runa Bowman quickly agreed to make the deal, without running it by Bard, mind you. Bard’s da and ma insisted they didn’t need all of the farmland now because most of it wasn’t being used anymore, since their livestock had dwindled in number remarkably over the years. They also insisted that the extra money would be very beneficial to the family. They told Bard they could have lots of new things they needed and even things Bard wanted for no other reason than to have them, like that new video game system and the coolest dragon video game to go with it. They tried to entice him with many other things Bard had wanted in the past and could never have because finances were tight and even said that Bard could have his whole bedroom redone; the walls could be painted any color Bard wanted and he could pick out some new furniture.

Bard wanted no part of any of it. He was smart and not so easily tricked…even though he really, _really_ wanted that video game system. He’d never owned one, but from what he saw on TV, they looked pretty awesome and the game he wanted looked even cooler, filled with fantastical things like a giant red dragon that could spit fire, a knight, and a very pretty princess.

The thing that annoyed Bard the most was that his parents tried to sweeten the situation by telling him it would be nice to have neighbors for a change and they even had a son his age. In reality, by telling him this, things were looking even grimmer in Bard’s eyes. He would be attending kindergarten soon and he’d be surrounded by kids all the time. And besides, he had the animals! Wasn’t that enough? What more did his parents want? He would make friends if he wanted to on his own that weren’t settling their stinky butts on his territory.

The whole thing was stupid, dumb (very dumb at that), and unprecedented, even! Was that the right word? He’d heard one of his parents say it at some point or another, but he couldn’t really recall the exact meaning of the word. Either way, it made him sound very grown up and he was sticking with it. This whole ordeal would never stop being stupid, dumb, and unprecedented, not even the day Bard died.

Now the day he’d been counting down to was here and those wretched strangers would be moving all their junk into their new house on what was _supposed_ to be _his_ land to play in.

Bard had been free to frolic around the entire farm ever since he could crawl. Not alone, of course. If Bard wanted to play amongst the animals, he had to have supervision, but other than that he could run and play wherever he wanted to. He loved the farm, he loved the animals, he loved the dirt, the sun, the moon and the stars. The sky was always so open and clear and Bard knew that it had to be the most beautiful thing in the whole world. His home had been perfect ever since he’d known it, but now it was going to be ruined.

He didn’t want to share it with anyone! Why hadn’t his parents just listened to him and called the whole thing off? His opinion mattered too!

As he laid in the plush, green grass of his vast back yard, Bard pouted and whined to himself. He’d never been so unhappy or mad in all his five years of life, except for the first time he’d been stung by a bee, of course. That had been bad, but this was _worse_ , a hundred bajillion million times worse. He watched the clouds rolling idly by above him and wished he could just lay there forever and ever and that nothing would ever change.

Why did life have to be so unfair?

“Honey, your lunch is ready!” Runa called and Bard sighed, his little chest falling as he huffed out his breath. He knew he should have run somewhere farther away to relax. He didn’t care much about lunch at this point, despite his grumbling stomach; why would he eat when his life was practically already over anyway? He was certain he couldn’t survive his absolute misery.

Little did he know, his ma had been watching him from the back porch for some time, unsettled by Bard’s behavior. She’d been unsettled by it for an entire year, and as this day approached it had only gotten worse. He was always such a good kid; he didn’t even have that bad of “terrible twos”, but since he’d been informed of the sale, he’d been dramatically angry or sad whenever it was even mentioned. Eventually, Runa and Brent stopped bringing it up around him at all, but Bard was persistent in checking the calendar every day which would fuel his upsets. Brent tried to give her hope by saying he was only five and the phase would pass, but she worried none the less.

Bard had never been one to be so unnecessarily stubborn when his temperament was concerned, meaning he never stood by his occasional temper tantrums for long. Instead, he was stubborn about other things whether it was trying to pour his own juice without spilling, trying to tie his shoes, or helping do this and that around the house and the farm. He was so determined to complete the tasks he attached himself to that if he failed to do something, he’d stew over it and tire himself out trying to attain his goals. He’d once tried peeling an entire apple himself (without his parents knowing) and wasted six apples before he nearly cut off his own finger. He had the scar and the scary hospital memories to prove it.

He was relentless just like she was, and she cursed herself for it every time he’d tell her “No, I _need_ to do this, ma!” with his famous concentration face on: big, serious eyes and a flat mouth. She never wanted his efforts to end in him beating himself up and him becoming obsessed with whatever it was he was doing. Overall it was a virtuous stubbornness he had, but for a five year old it could be a bit much at times.

“Are you just going to lay there like a lump all day and burn to a crisp?” she asked.

“If I’m lucky.” Bard retorted and Runa rolled her eyes while trying to stifle a laugh. She didn’t want to think it was comical, but that kind of sass coming from an almost six year old was admittedly funny. Said sass also wasn’t her fault; Bard had inherited her father’s sense of humor, evidently.

Runa descended down the back porch steps and then slowly crept up on her sulking son until she finally cast her shadow over him and gave a yell, startling poor Bard and sending him springing from the ground and screaming. She laughed as she scooped him up in her arms and his frightened shrieking resolved into boisterous giggling.

“ _Ma!”_ he scolded, but she was happy to have put a smile on his face. She much preferred to have him smiling, and Bard did too. Smiling was easier than frowning, anyway. Brooding took so much work.

“Come on, grumpy monster, let’s get some food in your belly.” She said as she pat his stomach and he rolled his eyes in a deliberating manner.

“I don’t think I can eat like this.” He said, letting his head droop limp over her arm. Bard was completely serious and not meaning to overact at all, but to his mother it looked like a pitiful, dramatic move.

“Its grilled cheese with double the cheese.” She coaxed and his head popped up, hazel eyes sparkling.

“Hm…okay, but only because I’m _very_ hungry and your grilled cheese is my favorite!”

Hook, line and sinker. Bard _never_ said no to Runa’s famous grilled cheese. It was too yummy to ever pass up.

 

Bard took off his boots and started running off to the bathroom before his mother made a sound that reminded him to straighten his boots neatly on the mat. He did just that before pounding across hardwood floors to the bathroom. He kicked his stool over to the sink, too short to reach, and washed his hands before enjoying his lunch. The glorious grilled cheese was accompanied by apple slices and hasbrowns, but he attacked the sandwich first, unable to withhold his hunger anymore. He smiled at his ma who sat across from him at the table with crumbs on his cheeks after chugging down some of his milk.

“AHH!” he cheered, very satisfied and grinning with a milk mustache lining his top lip. “It’s really super-duper awesome good, just like always, ma!”

“That’s nice to hear, honey.” Runa laughed and then Bard’s head turned as he bit down on his sandwich again, hearing the front door open.

“Mm, is that grilled cheese I smell?” came Brent’s voice. Bard was sure to swallow his bite of food before speaking.

“Da! It is, it _is_ grilled cheese! With double the cheese and it’s really super-duper awesome good, da! You better hurry before I eat it all!”

Brent came jogging into the room and snatched Bard’s mangled grilled cheese from his hand and playfully dangled it over his open mouth as Bard whined and laughed.

“NOOO! Da, that’s _mine!_ Give it back, give it!” he pleaded as he stood on his chair and jumped up and down to try to reach it. Runa gasped as he did so and Brent and Bard both looked at her innocently.

“Bard, sit down before you fall!” she ordered and Bard plopped down on the chair cushion Runa had made.

“Sorry, ma. Can you make da give me back my food? I’m going to starve!”

“Oh, _please!_ ” Brent chuckled, popped the sandwich into his son’s mouth and kissed Bard’s messy hair. “There ya go, kiddo. Eat up. Hello, darling.” Brent next moved to kiss his wife’s head.

“Wash your hands!” Bard reminded him and Brent gave a nod, heading to the sink as Runa set up his plate of food. Bard swung his legs under the table, accidentally kicking his father as he sat since their seats were rather close. “Oops!”

“That’s alright; boy, your legs must be getting pretty long.”

“Really? You think so?”

“I know so. Just look at that mustache!” Brent said and Bard’s eyes widened – he hadn’t had a mustache when he woke up that morning! He felt his lip, feeling only milk. His parents shared a chuckle and Bard stuck out his tongue before wiping his lip with his napkin.

“How come I can’t grow one like you, da?”

“You will someday. We’ll have to measure you on the wall after lunch and see how tall you’ve gotten.”

Bard excitedly jumped in his seat and beamed. He knew he had to be, like, a whole foot taller than the last time he’d been measured! And after being measured, he would do his favorite chore of the day: feeding the pigs, horses, and the chickens, or the “clucks”, as he called them. He never quite liked the word “chicken” and at two years old, he decided he’d call them clucks instead. He was feeling very pleased with this turn of events and at the thought of feeding the animals, he had a genius idea.

It turned out he hadn’t grown a foot. He’d only sprouted a half an inch since he was last measured, but it was better than nothing. He wanted to be big and tall just like his da so he could play with the animals on his own.

He grabbed his boots and slipped them on before leaving out the front door with Brent. Brent climbed up on the riding lawn mower parked by the front porch and Bard sat atop his lap as they chugged into the back yard. Brent drove back to the barn and together, the two of them threw seed to the “clucks”, gave slop to the pigs, and hay to the horses. Bard happily fed the animals, petting them each all the while and praising them all for being such good animals for eating up all their food.

“Too bad you can’t have ma’s grilled cheese,” Bard would whisper to them.

He knew each animal by name and was sure to address them each personally as he pet them. To him, they were practically family. They were the closest thing he had to friends – no, they _were_ his friends! His _best_ friends! Because friends didn’t have to be people, right? Right. Bard had a secret about his friends though; there was one he favored more than the others, and that was Dusty the pig.

Dusty was just a kid, by pig standards, so he was just like Bard. Bard was Dusty’s self-proclaimed big brother, since he had been there when he was born and he made it his sole duty to protect Dusty for as long as he lived. Sure, Bard wasn’t pink and chubby with four legs and a curly tail - he didn’t have a tail at all, but he wondered what it would be like if he did – but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still be brothers. No one knew that Dusty was his favorite except for his ma and da and Dusty, of course. He didn’t want to hurt any of the other animals’ feelings by telling them because they were cool too, just not as cool as Dusty.

“Well, that should about do it.” Brent said as he wiped his hands off on his pants. “I’m gonna finish up mowing all back here now that the front is done. Want me to give you a lift back to the house?”

“Nope. I’m gonna play with Dusty for a while.” Bard replied, already walking off back to the pig pen.

“Hey, you take him out of the pen and put him on the leash if you’re going to play with him.” Brent said sternly, but Bard already knew the rules.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Alright. You be careful, now.”

“We will!”

Bard waved to Brent as he rode off on the mower and he bit down on his smile as he dashed across the distance between him and the pig pen. He grabbed Dusty’s leash and harness from the post they rested on and then let himself through the gate.

“Dusty, Dusty! Come on, boy, I’m takin’ you out!” After Dusty, the littlest pig of the lot, still didn’t take his head out of the slop bin, Bard dragged him out with much struggle. “ _Urf!_ Come on, we gotta go _now!_ Gee, you’re gettin’ heavy!”

Dusty’s wet nose wiggled and he snorted as Bard finagled the harness onto him and then hooked the leash on it. He pat Dusty’s head for being a good little brother and then the glint in his eye turned back on the pig pen. This was probably the most brilliant idea he’d ever had.

“Okay Dusty,” he began with hands on his hips. “I’m the big brother here so you have to listen to whatever I say…I think that’s how these things go. Anyway, we’re going to bring all the pigs with us and we’re gonna go show those new people that they don’t ever wanna live on our farm!”

Bard, radiating with pride at his smartness, swung the pen gate open. He waved all the pigs out and after a little pushing and luring, all of the chunky pigs filed out. He jumped for joy – his plan was working!

He ran ahead of the herd, waving his arm and calling for them all to follow after him with Dusty’s leash secure in his little hand. Dusty tried to keep up with Bard as he ran through the field, but the rest of the squealing group started to stray. Bard tried calling them back and clapping his hands to get their attention. He frowned and stalked toward the rogue piggies, but then they started _running!_

“Hey, hold on! Where are you going?!” Bard yelled. He sighed, shaking his head. “This is why you’re my favorite, Dusty; you’re the only one that ever listens!”

The chase was on. How hard would it be to catch a few fat pigs?

 

It wasn’t twenty minutes later that Runa peeked out to see how Bard was doing and her eyes swelled in shock. She could see Bard’s dark head of curls zooming around, racing after six pigs that were all headed in different directions.

“BARD BOWMAN!” she yelled from the back porch.

Uh oh.

Bard stopped in his tracks, nearly tripping in doing so. That was ma’s “I’m not happy” voice. He was in trouble for sure.

Runa ran out to get her husband and give the news of just exactly what was going on. They rode to the scene of the crime as fast as the lawn mower could take them and Bard was sent inside to stand in the corner and think about what he’d done while his parents wrangled the pigs back into their pen.

Bard cried the whole time he stood in the corner of the kitchen. What had he done wrong? Why was he being punished? It wasn’t _his_ fault the piggies wouldn’t listen to him like Dusty did. He was trying to do a good thing for all of the whole family and his parents didn’t even seem to care. He thought he could turn this awful day around by driving away the strangers who were due to be moving in down the road any minute, but he’d only made the horrible day worse. Now _those people_ were still going to move in _and_ his ma and da were mad. How could it get any worse?

He sobbed and sniffled, wiping his non-stop tears and the snot running from his nose with the end of his shirt so much that it started to hurt. He knew a tissue would be a much more comfortable thing to clean his face with, but he didn’t deserve a tissue; that, and if he moved from that spot he’d surely be dead.

When the back door opened his shoulders tightened.

“Come sit at the table.” Brent said firmly and Bard turned to face them, his face scrunched up tight in hopes of not releasing any more tears, but it all came bursting out as soon as he set his eyes on them looking down at him disapprovingly. He _hated_ being bad, or more so the consequences that came with it. He wailed like a baby and ran straight into his ma and da’s legs, wrapping his arms around them desperately. They always told him how good of a little boy he was and now he’d been horrible! They were going to get rid of him and there was no avoiding it. Life was really ending this day.

“Honey, why are you crying?” Runa asked with her hand resting on top of his head.

“I’m sorry I let the piggies go! I was only trying to scare the neighbors away because I don’t want them here and I want everything to go back to normal with just me and you guys and Dusty and the rest of the animals and that’s _it!_ Nobody else! Please don’t send me away, I love you so much!” Bard bawled and Runa laughed.

“Bard, we would never send you away!” she said and Bard looked up at her with a pitiful, tear streaked face.

“Y-You wouldn’t?”

“No! You’re our little boy and we love you.”

“Yes,” Brent cut in. “But you know better, Bard. You could have hurt the pigs, or worse, yourself. This neighbor business is getting way out of hand. Why are you so against having nice people around?”

“You don’t know if they’re nice!” Bard retorted.

“Well, your ma and I have met them and they seem like very nice people.”

“You _met them?_ ”

“Yes, we did, some months ago. We wouldn’t sell the land to just anyone.”

“You should give them a chance, sweetheart, and get to know them before you decide you don’t like them. Isn’t that fair?” Runa said and Bard gave a pause, knowing his ma was right and hating it. He grunted and buried his head further as he mumbled into their legs.

“I guess so.”

“If you’re going to say something, speak up.” Brent said and Bard detached from them.

“I saiiid _I guess so_ , but I’m not gonna be happy about it!” he pouted.

“Enough of the sass there, kiddo, or you’ll get yourself another time out.” Brent warned and Bard kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to push his luck with his ma and da and he certainly didn’t want another crummy time out. “No more of this until you’ve met them, you hear?”

“Yes, da, no more.”

“Make me a promise.” Brent said, extending his pinky and Bard curled his little pinky around his da’s.

“I promise.”

 

Bard was sitting with his knees in the dirt right beside his ma; picking weeds from the front gardens was supposed to be punishment for the piggy dliemna and his sour attitude, but he didn’t mind it all that much since he’d done it before. He’d rather be playing, but it could have been worse. At least there were no spankings involved. His parents told him that little children who were very bad were sometimes spanked on the butt, but Bard had never been so misbehaved as to earn a little smack.  

They wore matching gardening gloves. Bard thought they were a little silly, but Runa said they were to protect his hands from prickers and boy, did Bard _hate_ prickers. He’d had enough encounters with them to know they weren’t friendly and chose to avoid them. His parents always told him that nature was not a force to be underestimated, and they were right. Nature was magical and kind if you treated it right, otherwise you could get all scratched up if you trample around with no consideration for the world around you. His parents often commended him for knowing this, but Bard thought it to be very simple and something everyone ought to know.

“Sorry,” he said as he ripped another weed out of the dirt and chucked it into the throw away pile. Weeds were pesky little things that weren’t good for his ma’s flowers and so they had to go. It was the circle of plant life with a little kid’s hand intervening. “Just stay away and I won’t have to always pull you out.” He said. At least the weeds didn’t run away when he reached for them like a certain few piggies he knew, although he did wish plants could be more animated like people and animals were. He liked plants. Maybe he wouldn’t if they could talk. Who knew?

“Ma, I don’t like being bad, but sometimes I just get mad.” Bard said and Runa smiled sweetly under the shade of her sunhat.

“I know, honey. No one can be good all the time, but you’re definitely the finest little boy I know and I would never want you any other way. I couldn’t have wished for a better son.”

“Even when I’m doing bad things?”

“Even then.”

Bard smiled quietly to himself; his ma was such a nice lady and he was lucky to have her. His da was nice too, but a lot harsher when it came to rules and things. Bard could live with that because his da was a funny guy.

Just then, he and Runa both looked up to the sound of engines rumbling in the distance. He squinted his eyes as he peered at the far away road and he watched intently as a long, looong line of cars and moving trucks bumped their way past his house. He wondered if they could see his glare, but it wasn’t likely unless they had super sight.

“You’d think you were a little guard dog the way you’re bristling!” his ma said, breaking his concentration. “Is that hair sticking up on the back of your neck?” she teased and Bard gave a pathetic bark that sounded everything but vicious. He stood and howled, but Runa pulled him back to the dirt with a shushing finger to her lips. “Enough of that, now. You promised to give them a chance.”

“When do I have to meet them?” Bard asked, not excited about the idea at all. At least if he met them and saw how terrible their new neighbors were, his parents couldn’t complain about his judgment anymore.

“In time. We have to give them time to settle in and unpack all their things.”

“They better not get too comfy just in case.” Runa shot him a look and he grinned. “Just in case the water doesn’t work or they don’t like the bugs, ma!”

“Mmhm.”

Phew. That was a close one.

 

After Bard and Runa had extracted all of the weeds from the front gardens, they had both worked up a sweat. They retreated to the cool inside for a refreshing glass of cold lemonade. Bard downed it quickly and for doing such a good job, he was reprieved of his clothes folding duty as Runa lowered the hanging clothes from the line outside. He was, however, still expected to help her prepare dinner after she was finished, so he only had a short time to himself. His next plan had to be put into action quickly, and this time he wouldn’t be caught. He was going to catch the strangers down the road off guard with no formal warning that he’d be visiting. They would have no time to conjure up any fake appearances to fool him.

He darted down his gravel driveway and to the road, the air whirling through his ringlets as he went. He stopped as soon as he reached the pavement, looking both ways for any oncoming vehicles before running any further.

The foreign house was farther from his than he’d thought; it must have taken him almost ten minutes until the massive structure came into view. He stopped, stunned by its enormity behind opened gates. It looked like the mansions he saw on TV that celebrities and superheroes lived in. His heart skipped a beat…could it be? Were these people somehow very rich and famous and hiding from the world on his road away from the city? Fear suddenly replaced his previous confidence as he thought maybe he shouldn’t disturb these people if they were a big deal; he didn’t want to get into trouble with bodyguards thinking he was a spy or something.

Despite his fear, he was now insanely curious and his urge to see these people for himself and check them out was overbearing and impossible to ignore. He was little. Who would see him? And he was fast, too. If anyone saw him, he’d be sure to be gone in a flash. 

He sped across the road and sneakily ducked down behind the shrubbery that lined the gate. He crept into the bush to get his face as close to the bars as he could to look between them; there were lots of people moving about carrying boxes and fancy furniture. In the midst of it all, there was someone small standing in the vast yard watching it all happen.

The little person stood with their short arms wrapped around a plant pot and a stubby, green, prickly thing sat in it. Bard didn’t know what it was; it didn’t look like any flower he’d ever seen, but his attention was drawn back to the little person standing all by theirself. He felt his cheeks grow warm as he stared, but it wasn’t from the sun’s heat beating down on him. It was a familiar feeling, like when he felt embarrassed and his ma would tease him for getting red in the face. What it meant, Bard still didn't know, but this time he felt... _different_.

That little person with the odd looking plant was thin and shorter than Bard, from what he could tell, and had weird features like a tiny button nose, big ears poking through their long, blonde hair and large, and sparkling blue eyes that made Bard think of the ocean. Though Bard had never seen the ocean for himself, from what he’d heard and seen in pictures and on TV, he thought the shimmering of the little person’s bright blue eyes mimicked the way the sunbeams bounced off the ocean waves perfectly and it was...it was _amazing_ and _wonderful!_ Though the person didn’t look happy, they sure were pretty to look at. The person looked like a princess in a fairytale and an oddly dressed one, since they wore shorts, tall socks with white sneakers, and a green, plaid button up shirt like ones boys wore. Maybe modern princesses didn't wear poofy dresses anymore. It didn't matter. That person was _beautiful_ , even more beautiful than the sky.

That was it. This stranger was the most beautiful person Bard had ever seen and he wanted to squeeze through the bars and run to them, hug them and make them smile, whoever they were. They were too pretty to be unhappy!

He poked his head through the bars and the rest of his body moved to follow, but something caught him. He tried again and the bars hit his shoulders.

Panic set in. _He was stuck_ , and the prettiest princess in the whole world was looking _right at him_.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read andquitefrankly's Color Outside the Lines, its an adorable Bagginshield fic with other Hobbit characters involved and there's even a sequel! I recommend it to anyone who likes Bagginshield and fluff because its truly the cutest.
> 
> For any of you who've read my college/Shakespeare series so far, yes I kept Bard's parent's names the same just for the sake of ease and I really like those names. :3 I'm still working on that series at the moment, I haven't forgotten. Just trying something new and fun in the meantime!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my own spin on the Barduil ship, thank you for reasing (as always), and you can always find me on tumblr!: the-star-named-andy


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